


A Passionate Undertaking

by TiBun



Series: Death's Dance [2]
Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Grelltaker, Hurt/Comfort, Lemon, M/M, PWP, Top Undertaker, bottom Grell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-31
Updated: 2012-08-31
Packaged: 2017-12-24 10:55:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/939150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TiBun/pseuds/TiBun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Grell finds out that there was no possible way that He and William would ever be together; he sets out to take out the pain on the Phantomhive Butler. But Undertaker has other plans to help ease the pain and mend his heart.</p><p>Deleted scene from chapter 9 of "Death's Dance" but can also be enjoyed on it's own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Passionate Undertaking

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: we do not own any recognizable characters. we only explore the possibilities.
> 
> Co-written with pervyyaoifancier (DA)

Grell gripped his chainsaw tightly in his glove-clad hand, his sharp teeth clenched together in an angry sneer. How dare they?! After nearly one hundred years of him confessing to William and doing everything he could think of to get William's attention, the supervisor of the reaper dispatch finally opened himself up to a relationship…with Ronald Knox! He had lost his greatest crush to his own junior! His junior who knew very well just how deep Grell's feelings for William were.

And what was the worst thing about it all? That they both had said nothing about it! Grell had seen them both and both decided that he didn't deserve to know the truth. Oh no, he had to hear it from the gossiping secretaries in the break room. And then William had to go and tell him he never even had a chance!

The red-head let off a loud angry growl, turning on his scythe and swinging it, cutting through a lamp post. He just couldn't wait until his heel-clad feet took him to the Phantomhive Estate where he could vent these feelings on a particularly handsome demon. The innocent lamp post would have to die to hold him over a little longer.

He watched as the lamp post fell to the cobblestone road, the glass casing around the oil lamp shattering and letting the oil leak out. There had been no flame yet, as it was still the middle of the day, and he was lucky to be on a road that few people actually used on a day-to-day base. He began to chop the lamp into smaller pieces, "Stupid—idiotic—Spears! Bloody—fucking—hate—GAHHHH!"

Undertaker whistled to himself as he contemplated what he was going to do for tea this afternoon. He was on his way back from the churchyard, shovel over his shoulder, having just finished several burials from early afternoon funerals. He could have left the job to the grave diggers, but he thought it was much more polite to say farewell to his guests and coffins personally. Making his way back to the shop, he heard a horrible grating sound of metal screeching on metal and changed direction slightly to see what the commotion might be. Wandering down the street, he found Grell Sutcliff murdering a poor defenseless street lamp and cursing up a storm. Unsure what to make of it, he approached casually with his typical wide grin, not at all frightened by this display of rage, but more curious.

"Miss Sutcliff? Whatever are you doing? Has that lamp offended you in some way?" he yelled over the roar of the chainsaw with a grin.

The red-head paused, mid-swing as he pulled his scythe back for another blow, glancing over his shoulder at the grinning old reaper, "Of course it has! Standing there all proud and happy! It…It has no right to mock me in such a way!" he choked out, feeling droplets of moisture running down his cheeks. Just when had he started crying? He lowered his scythe, knowing it was useless to chop up inanimate objects, and he kicked a piece of steel, sending it rolling a few feet, causing his toes a small amount of pain. But physical pain was good…he could handle physical pain…in fact, he rather enjoyed it. It was the emotional pain he couldn't handle.

The mortician approached closer and noted tears on the red reaper's cheeks. "Well, I think you have done a splendid job of showing it whatfor, milady. But why does it have you so vexed as to cause tears? Drops of red suit you far better."

"I…" he wiped a wet cheek with the back of his gloved hand, "They'll be hidden under lovely red soon enough once I find that demon I won't get in trouble for killing…" he said in a shaky voice, stepping over the fallen lamp and continuing a few steps, "Not that staying out of trouble matters much anymore…William…Tch." He swerved towards the nearby pile of wooden crates and kicked them over, sending them tumbling down around him as he sank to his knees and gave in to the tears, dropping his beloved scythe and crying into his hands.

Grell was very upset over something. Undertaker didn't know him very well personally, but he knew he was the type to give in to homicidal rage over tears of sorrow any day...and the mention of "William" told Undertaker that this was a matter of the heart. Anyone that knew anything about the dispatch in the last century knew Sutcliff carried a torch for Spears. It was just common knowledge. So something drastic had to have happened, and obviously not something for the better. But it wouldn't do for him to have a fit in the middle of a public street in the middle of the day.

With a soft tsk, he once again approached the red reaper. Without invitation or warning, he gently put down his shovel, picked up the chainsaw, put it back into Grell's hands, then scooped the redhead up into his arms, to carry him princess style.

"Come now, my dear, Mr. Michaelis is not fit to see your tears. As lovely as you'd be covered in demon blood, I think a spot of tea is in order first. You can tell me all about what's troubling you and if you do not feel better after, then I'll come with you and we can have a rousing game of chase," he said as he started walking towards his shop.

Normally, Grell would have protested, demanding he get his taste of blood before settling for something as bland and common as tea. But he found he just didn't have the energy for it. Being swept up into the older man's arms was comforting, and not just because he knew that under those shaggy white bangs was hidden a rare handsome jewel of a man. He leaned in against his chest and wrapped an arm around him, "…For a minute only…" he muttered.

"Whatever you allow me is more than enough, my dear," he chuckled softly as he continued on. He placed Grell back onto his feet to unlock the door to his shop and gestured for him to go ahead. Once inside, he removed his hat and outer coat to hang them and headed over to the stove to start the kettle.

"Apart from the insane screaming and sniffles, may I say, Miss Sutcliff, you look rather lovely today? The skirt suits you."

The red-head set down his chainsaw against the wall and sat down on a coffin, crossing his legs delicately as he pulled out a small compact mirror and checked his makeup, fixing himself up the best he could, "There was a change in company dress code. I can wear skirts now…" he muttered then flopped back on the coffin, his long hair flying out and draping over the sides like silken strands, "You don't have to be nice, Undertaker. Men are bloody morons and I know no one actually likes me…that at least is clear enough now."

"Oh? It's about time! I'm sure you've taken every opportunity to wear one since then, haven't you?" Undertaker chuckled softly and set the water boiling and sauntered over to Grell, "You are correct, I don't have to be nice, but I'm not inspired to be mean while in your presence. You are a lovely creature," he said softly as he reached down to stroke over ruby tresses. "Tell me, what has you so upset as to curse men and believe that no one likes you, my dear?"

Grell looked up at the man, willing his tears not to fall again, "My junior stole William from me." he choked. No good. The tears returned falling down the sides of his temples and into his hair.

It was rather surprising to hear that the dour William T. Spears was involved with someone, but he was far more concerned by Grell's tragic reaction to it. For a rather long time, Undertaker had thought Grell chased after the strict man out of habit or familiarity, but it was obvious that the red reaper's feelings went far deeper than that. The mortician didn't say anything as he knew there wasn't anything he could say to help such a deep hurt without sounding insincere or patronizing, so knelt next to the coffin and reached out to brush the tears away.

The younger reaper turned his head and looked up at the other, reaching up to press the boney fingers to the side of his face, closing his eyes and lay there silently, enjoying the gentle touch.

He had to admit it was a bit heart wrenching to see the normally exuberant and remorseless Grell in such a vulnerable state. He leaned in closer and stroked the fingers of his free hand through scarlet strands.

"There, there, darling," he said softly, soothingly. "I think you've earned the right to be upset over this. We have but one heart and a wound is always grievous and never easily healed, but do not ever think that it never will. You have much to give, I can see, and not everyone can appreciate that. You are a fine, beautiful, passionate lady and you will someday have that same passion returned in kind."

He spoke softly and calmly with a gentle smile, stroking fingers through his hair over and over again.

Grell pushed himself up once more and he quickly hugged himself to the silver-haired reaper, "Why couldn't I have fallen for someone like you?" he muttered, his hands sliding over the thick black cloth and buttons.

Undertaker put his arms around Grell and smiled softly. "No on says you still can't," he said and teasingly tapped his nose. "You are a reaper to die for and I am humble mortician. You stab them, I slab them. What better match is there, really? "

He chuckled softly and toyed with his hair more then turned slightly when he heard the kettle whistle. "Pardon me, darling, I'll only be a moment," he said before trotting over to the stove to pull the kettle of the heat.

"Undertaker…" Grell stood up before his mind could process what his body was doing. He reached out and caught the retired reaper's wrist before he could get too far, and then when the confused man turned to look at him, he wasted no time in capturing his pale lips in a kiss.

Well, that had been entirely unexpected. Undertaker knew it would probably be best to pull away, but he couldn't seem to summon the will to do it. The red reaper was in pain and seeking comfort...the least he could do was give it to him. It didn't cost him anything to show Grell he was lovely and desirable.

Instead of ending the kiss, he wrapped arms around Grell once more and returned it. "Being a bit forward, are we, milady?" he said, pulling back with a chuckle. "That's quite fine by me. I do love the wicked ones..."

"I was never the type of maiden to wait up in a tower." Grell stated, still not knowing exactly why he had kissed the old reaper, but he wasn't regretting it. Why should he? William had never actually been his. And he has held other crushes while he was fighting for William's attention. Eric, Thomas, James, Sebastian, though admittedly, Grell found that he lusted after spilling the demon's blood more than actually wanting a possible relationship with him, and even Undertaker himself.

So why should he give up on the idea of romance just because one rather large crush prefers a blonde over a red-head? Sure, he was still upset, and he imagined he would be for quite a while. Though every time he started thinking about it, he would dwell more on the fact that he had been kept in the dark about it even when both men knew his feelings for the cold supervisor he had shared wonderful memories with over the years from their academy days as well as their days as junior reapers before they moved up in rank.

"Nor should you be, darling," Undertaker said with a smile as he touched Grell's cheek tenderly. "You're far too beautiful to keep yourself locked away."

A small smile managed to force its way through Grell's bad mood and curl his painted lips lightly. "Watch it, darling. I'm on an emotional high…I may just do more than kiss you right now." He said, wrapping his arms around the undertaker's neck.

Undertaker returned the smile in kind and put his arms about Grell's waist.

"Oh? And I may just let you," he said tracing a nail over Grell's ruby lips. "I'd have to be mad to refuse your attentions, and I would be madder still not to reciprocate."

Grell blushed and leaned in, reconnecting the kiss, his fingers curling around the man's sash as he took a few steps backwards until the backs of his legs hit the side of the coffin they had been sitting on. He sat down and pulled Undertaker down on top of him.

"Mnnn..." Undertaker purred against Grell's lips as the redhead took initiative. He didn't fight as he was pulled along and eagerly covered Grell's body with his own when he was invited to.

"Don't tease me, darling," Undertaker said lowly as a wicked grin spread across his face, "I play a little roughly," he chuckled darkly and nipped at the red reaper's lips as he pinned his wrists. "Take heed if you're not looking for such a thing."

"You think I don't like to play rough?" The red-head wiggled, growing excited by the feel of Undertaker's grip pinning his wrists, "Now I know you are familiar with my lovely art work when Angelina and I became Jack the Ripper. Wouldn't that be a hint? After all," a smile that showed off his pointed teeth, his normal playfulness starting to return, "Art reflects the artist's soul and desires."

"Yes, yes, I am _very_ familiar with your work, milady," he grinned and leaned in to nip at the red-head's jaw. "I was extremely intrigued that such a vicious, tempestuous creature could hide behind such a mousy facade. But you are one hell of an actress..." His grip tightened on Grell's wrists as he none-too-gently shoved himself between the red reaper's thighs. "But how much more passion lies beneath?" he growled into his ear.

"Ah~ Would you like to see, My darkly dressed knight?" he turned his head and ran the tip of his tongue along the scar that ran across his face. "You did save this maiden from wallowing in a broken heart alone."

"Mmm, quite," he purred in response. "To be caught in any frenzy of yours would be a treat, my dear. Be it an attack of blood lust, or simple good old fashioned carnal lust, I want to fall victim to it..."

The red-head wiggled again, the fabric of his tight pencil skirt digging into his thighs, and the seams straining dangerously from his legs being parted to allow the older reaper to settle between them. He shifted his legs upwards as he wiggled, the strain on the threads becoming too much and a seam ripped, reveling more of Grell's smooth leg and the lace garter-belt that held up his thin stockings.

"Oh, my..." Undertaker purred hearing fabric tear and reached down to feel for the rip. His fingers caressed over Grell's bared thigh and teasingly traced over the tops of his stockings and followed the straps of the garter belt. "I've ruined it, haven't I? It seems you won't be needing this anymore then, hmm?" he chuckled, not at all remorseful as he sat up and in one quick motion tore the skirt the rest of the way and couldn't help but drool at the sight of Grell disheveled beneath him.

Grell shivered and allowed himself to grin, "Rip and tear all you wish, just try not to rip my lovely red jacket. It was a parting gift from Angelina, after all." He wiggled, and then because he didn't have use of his hands, he leaned up and licked up the trail of drool escaping the mortician's lips, "Darling, you are drooling."

"I'm going to be doing far more than that," the mortician purred and captured the red-head's lips in a biting kiss. He pinned Grell's hands above his head and attacked his neck with nips and kisses as he gave a particularly hard grind to illustrate his point.

"But I suppose I shouldn't have all the fun..." he said as he released Grell's wrists and sat back again to remove his outer robe and undid the buttons on his tunic.

While he had use of his hands, Grell quickly slipped out of his prized red jacket that he always wore around his elbows and tossed it to the side.

Undertaker then took Grell's wrists, brought his knuckles to his lips and slid the reaper's hands down his bared chest. "Why don't you let your pretty painted nails paint me a little red, darling?"

Grell took the invitation before Undertaker had finished his sentence, curling his fingers and digging his manicured nails into the pale, already scared flesh beneath them. He slowly dragged them down, applying more pressure as he went until the reddened trails faded darker and started to bleed. The bloodthirsty reaper watched as a bead of blood ran down his chest and pooled in his bellybutton, "Ah~ Like rubies on silk. Such lovely contrast~" he slid a finger over the bleeding marks raking across the older man's torso, dragging the red trails in another direction as he looked back up at the bangs that hid reaper green and yellow eyes.

The red reaper's nails felt divine as they scratched into his skin. He hissed and gasped in pleasure as they dug deeper, eventually leaving bloody trails in their wake and he shivered and gave a breathy laugh. Undertaker groaned and bit his lip as he looked down at Grell with lust burning in his eyes. "Such a naughty girl," he half-purred, half growled. Before he dove down and tore open the red-head's shirt, wasting no time in latching onto a nipple and wrapping arms around the smaller male's thin waist to pull their bodies tight together, spreading his blood over the other's torso.

Grell's flirtatious grin widened and he let out a small moan, "Maybe I misbehave in hopes of punishment~" he breathed, his nails raking up The older male's back, drawing more blood to the surface before smearing it around.

"Is that so, uhnnnn- milady?" he groaned as he arched into the scratches. He suddenly grabbed Grell by the hair and sank teeth into his neck as his free hand scratched down the red reaper's chest to palm over his panties and press hard against the bulge there, "Then you and I are of the same ilk," he chuckled softly as he released his neck and traced his tongue over the bite mark, pressing soothing kisses to it as his fingers traced the twitching erection beneath the thin panties teasingly before tickling over Grell's lower stomach and tracing along the top. "But I think you know that, don't you, darling?"

The older reaper purred as his hand dove into the panties and wrapped fingers around Grell's shaft and he chuckled to himself.

"Nnnnyh~ But of course!" The red-head's body arched up against the undertaker's hand lustfully, "Your own art, however much overtime it cost Ronnie and I, spoke volumes on that tragically sunken ship."

Grell gave a lustful growl and hooked his nails into the mortician's shoulders, pulling him down and scraping his sharp teeth along his collarbone and nibbling none-too-gently up his neck. His hand slid down and yanked open the man's belt and pants, diving in to claim his prize, running his nails over the hardened member teasingly, "Oh~ So hard already! Is that for me, darling?"

The mortician gave a breathy laugh as Grell squeezed him. The red-head certainly knew how to please and he wondered why he'd never taken steps to pursue him before. Mostly, it was missed opportunity, but he'd always admired how beautiful and passionate the red reaper was. He sighed and purred with lust as his skin kept getting scored and he pressed his neck into those sharp teeth knowing the delicious twinge of pain it would bring.

"Mnnn! Yes, just for you, my dear," he groaned as he rolled his hips to meet Grell's hand. His own grip on the younger reaper's shaft tightened and he pulled his neck away from the red-head's mouth to shove two fingers between Grell's ruby lips. "And if you want more of it, I suggest a little- Nnnahh!- wetness..."

Grell's lips parted to allow the fingers to slide into his mouth, his tongue wrapping around each digit individually, sliding down from his knuckles to his long black fingernails, taking a moment to scratch his tongue against them, "Ngnnnah~" Once satisfied with how wet the other's fingers were, he used his tongue to push them back out with a moaning gasp. He giggled and tightened his own grip on the man's length, his hips wiggling in anticipation.

The mortician licked his own lips seeing and feeling how enthusiastic the younger reaper was sucking on his fingers. It certainly made him more interested in just what else that mouth was capable of, but he had a rather singular purpose. As soon as his fingers were released, he covered Grell's mouth with his own, unable to resist the allure of that tongue. His wet fingers went straight to their desired goal, reaching down between the red reaper's legs, simply pushing the panties aside to press and rub against his entrance teasingly. He carefully pressed one finger in as he gripped the red-head's shaft hard and bit down on his lower lip, gave him a bare second to adjust, and began to pump the digit in and out of his body mercilessly. It wasn't long before he added the second finger and began scissoring him while he continued to stroke and kiss just as vigorously, bucking into Grell's helping hand all the while.

Grell moaned into the kiss, pawing at his chest and nipping lightly at the man's tongue. His hips wiggled again, causing the long nails inside him to scrape his walls, sending bolts of pain through him. "Mmmmnyahh!"

"Ah-ah! Careful, darling...A little pain is good, too much and it will stop being fun. Shall I give you something a little less sharp?" Undertaker cooed withdrawing his fingers. He wasted no time in positioning himself and slowly sank into Grell, gasping at the tightness. When he was about halfway in, he suddenly bucked his hips and drove himself home with another breathy laugh then bit his lip with a shudder.

"Mnnnn, you are exquisite..." he purred as he nibbled at the younger reaper's lips and allowed Grell's body to adjust to him. Once he felt the vice-like tightness abate a bit, he pulled back and slammed into the red-head hard enough to rock the coffin they were on.

"Oh, I hope you're ready, my dear, because I don't think I can hold back," he growled softly as he nipped Grell's ear. With that, he gripped the red-head's thighs and slammed into him again before taking up a frenzied rhythm of hard and fast thrusts.

"Nyaaha~! Ne vous retenez pas, mon chérie!" Grell gasped, spreading his legs further apart and gripping the edge of the coffin, his body wriggling and his head turning to expose his ear framed with his long red locks that the undertaker had nibbled on. His hands started to paw on the polished wood.

Undertaker chuckled at Grell's reaction and the melodious words that fell from his lips. He nuzzled the younger reaper's neck and ear softly, affectionately, in contrast to his hard, fast thrusts into his body.

"Bien sûr, ma dame," he growled softly and once again nibbled on the exposed ear. He released Grell's thighs to wrap them around his waist and wrapped fingers around his shaft once again as he changed the angle slightly to hit the hard little bundle of nerves deep inside the red-head with each thrust. The scratches on his chest and back made him hiss and shudder from the sting of sweat as he pounded into Grell's pliant body mercilessly, trying to make him scream.

"Oh larmes Persephone! Plus fort! U-nder-tak-er!" Grell cried out loudly, his gasps and moans shamelessly growing louder to screams that could be heard from the streets outside the dimly lit shop. His hands pawed and clawed into all they touched, the wood of the coffin, Undertaker's arms and shoulders, "UNNIE~!" His hips lifted off the lid of the coffin, meeting the thrusts penetrating him and assaulting that sensitive spot deep inside him.

"Mon plaisir, ma belle mort," Undertaker purred, the lovely sound of one of his favorite languages spilling from Grell's mouth only drove him to snap his hips harder and faster to accommodate his desire. He shivered and groaned as the red-head continued to scratch and mark him as he took his pleasure shamelessly, beautifully. He reveled in it and Undertaker reveled in him. He could feel his own climax building and Grell's screams fueled him as he pounded him into the coffin, the wood creaking from the force. He was sure the scarlet reaper would be bruised, but he was sure neither of them would regret it very much. All too soon, he was shuddering and trying to hold back his completion, but he could resist no longer as he tensed and shouted, spilling inside Grell with a shout of ecstasy even as he continued to slam into him and stroke his shaft.

Grell's screams continued to grow until they broke, soundlessly ripping from his lips as his neck craned back, his fingers desperately, need-fully, frantically, scratching at Undertaker until his climax devoured him, his back arching up off the wood, legs hugging Undertaker's waist to him, his voice breaking once more to let out the tail end of his ecstasy-filled scream. His body twitched as the climax faded away and he collapsed heavily onto the coffin, panting, his chest heaving so that the light from the nearby candles caught the sweat and seed on his skin. "Je-Je pense que Je t'aime...Undertaker."

Undertaker followed suit and lazily collapsed onto Grell, nuzzling and kissing over his chest with a grin.

"Don't give away your heart so easily, my dear. I'm liable to keep it," he said with a soft laugh as he stroked over Grell's sweat slicked skin.

Grell's already pounding heart sped up, "Then maybe it is safer with you than it is with me." he muttered, running his fingers through silver strands.

It surprised him that Grell was being so...open. He supposed it was because the scarlet reaper just suffered a significant emotional blow, but that didn't mean he couldn't try to mend the hurt anyway.

"But what will you do without a heart of your own, darling?" Undertaker chuckled softly. "Ah! I know! Take mine."

The red-head chuckled, wiping some of Undertakers blood up onto his fingers and holding his hand up so that the light caught the purest of red color; "My~ Wouldn't that be the most wonderful mess if it was literal." He grinned then slid his hand through Undertaker's hair, painting a few streaks of red onto the white as he pulled him into a kiss, "I have never been given a heart before. I hope I can take good care of it."

The mortician returned the kiss enthusiastically. "I've no doubt you will, my dear," he said softly against Grell's plush lips. "I've craved a passion like yours for a very long time. All I ask is that you let me love you just as fiercely."

"And what makes you think I wouldn't?" Grell smiled against his lips, "I'm admittedly a greedy little thing, I'll take all you have to offer me….over and over again."

"Oui, madame?" he said with a small chuckle and moved to nuzzle Grell's neck as he laced fingers with him. "S'il te plaît, prend ce que tu veux... Je suis à toi."

Grell grinned, showing off his deadly teeth and pulled Undertaker into another passionate kiss, grinding up against him and relighting that fire of passion they had shared.

* * *

**-End-**

**Author's Note:**

> Thankyou for reading, we hope you enjoyed it!


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